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Updated: June 2, 2025
"It's 'orrible, deer, but but you 'ad to. An' an' if I 'ave to s'y it, I'd a bloomin' sight rather it was 'Im than You!" "I'll 'ave my kiss now," said the lordly W. Keyse. And took it from her willing lips. There was no perceptible change in Lynette, either at the time of young Eybel's frustrated coup, or for long after.
Saxham's bedroom, that was on the floor above, and was done up in the loveliest style you ever! "Not that Missis W. Keyse would exchange 'er present quarters for Buckin'am Palace," she declared, pouring out her William's tea, "if invited to do so by 'er Majesty the Queen 'erself." William stopped blowing at his smoking saucer. "They s'y She's dyin'!" His face lengthened. He put the saucer down.
"I ain't; I mean it! You should 'ave 'arf me 'eredittary estates if I 'ad any. As I 'aven't, say wot you'll drink? Do, Miss, to oblige yours truly, W. Keyse, Esquire." W. Keyse plunged a royal, reckless hand into the pocket of his tweed riding-breeches, bought against the time when he should bestride something nobler than a bicycle, and produced a half-sovereign.
Staggering from the shock of the horrible self-revelation, he gritted his teeth. There was a Billy Keyse who was a blooming coward inside the other who was not. He told the sickening, white-gilled little skulker what he thought of him. He only wished that is, one of him only wished that a gang of the Dutchies would come along now!
He was a stout, middle-aged tradesman, with a large wife and a corresponding family, and it wrung the heart of W. Keyse to think that a tricky fate might have placed that insensible man on the side where Her window was!
"The First," said W. Keyse, with an air of mystery, "was in a saloon-bar full o' Transvaal an' Free State Dutchies at Gueldersdorp." "Lor'! You don't ever mean " began his wife, and stopped short. The scene of her first meeting with W. Keyse flashed back upon her mental vision. She saw the big man waking up out of his drunken stupor and lurching to the rescue of the little one.
The crowding faces of B.S.A. men and Town Guardsmen were grinning now. The patrol-officer was rocking in his saddle. "When I revived, sir, from the swoon or trance ..." "Very good, Private Brooker; we'll hear the rest of that in the morning. Sergeant, relieve these sentries, and bring Private Keyse and the hypnotic subject before me in the morning.
The Old Shop, as W. Keyse affectionately called his native island, had drawn the exiles home. Good-bye to the bronzed, ungirdled vastness of veld and karroo, and the clear, dark, distant blue of level-topped mountains bathed in the pure stimulating atmosphere that braces like champagne. Southampton Dock was a pure delight to Mr. and Mrs. W. Keyse.
Then, if you find yourself soarin' heavenwards in a kind of scattered anatomical puzzle-map of little bits, don't blame me for obligin' you, that's all." There was a guffaw from the listeners. W. Keyse saluted, cheerfully joining in. "I shan't s'y a word, sir." "By George, I believe you!" said Beauvayse. "What's up? Seen a ghost?"
"Mouse or Louse, it means the syme," declared W. Keyse with burning eyes. "And the Doctor's goin' to find it does." He held up his lean right hand and swore it. "So 'elp me, Jimmy Cripps!" Lynette Saxham came into the consulting-room that was on the ground-floor of the house in Harley Street, behind the room where patients waited their turn.
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